Natdia
by NostalgieMalaak
Summary: Cathy and her family have moved away from everything and everyone she knew. Now in her new home in the heart of the Teton Mountains she fears something is watching her family, and knows that something would give anything to have Trowa.
1. Chapter 1

Natdia _1_

By NostalgieMalaak

Notes: another ghost story…because they're so much fun to write

Warnings: none for now

* * *

I was thirteen when my parents made the decision that would turn my world upside-down. 

At first it may seem like I'm whining about this (after all, moving from one place to another is traumatic for children but rarely life threatening) but maybe you shouldn't judge me so quickly until I've told you my story.

So I was thirteen. I had the best group of friends a girl could ever imagine. We did everything and went everywhere together. They were my best friends, my sisters. And I was being forced to leave them behind.

When I found out I couldn't even bring myself to tell them. I just pretended like the problem would go away, that I would live out my teenage years the way I had always envisioned. But like I said, they were like sisters to me and quickly realized that I was being too quiet for my normal vivacious self.

"Cathy? What's wrong?" Hilde asked. Hilde knew me much too well. Growing up in the house next door she had always been my closest friend, the one I trusted with all my secrets. Even my most dreadful secret, that I was the one who broke my little brother's arm when he was too young to speak and blamed it on the boys down the street Hilde always understood me. And now I was leaving her.

"It's nothing guys," I said with a sigh. The four other girls just looked at each other. They thought I was being dramatic as usual, and maybe I was. Just a little.

"Come on Cathy, spill it!" Sally demanded, tweaking my hair between her fingers. She was always doing stuff like that. It was like she thought she could get away with little-sistering me because she was a whole year older than I was.

"Ya Cathy, tell us or we'll tell Bobby Linden that you have a huge crush on him!" squealed Relena with a wicked look on her face. That got all the girls laughing. I glared back at her but I could tell my chest and neck were breaking out in a blush. They just laughed all the harder.

"I'm moving away." I blurted out suddenly. I wanted to shock them with it, this terrible knowledge, but as soon as I said it I wished I could take it back.

No one was laughing anymore. In fact, they all looked stricken. It wasn't until that moment that it really dawned on me. I was moving away. I was never going to see them ever again.

I can't remember who was the first to start crying, but I'm sure that I was the last to stop. After the tears started it was like there was no end to them. I was crying so hard that all the pink bubble gum-flavored lip gloss I was wearing had come off from me running my tongue over my lips to taste my tears as they spilled down my cheeks and into my mouth. It was the most devastating moment of my young life.

One by one, Sally, Noin, Relena, and finally Hilde gave me a long tearful hug and let me go home to shed some more tears on my pillow. It wasn't the last time I would see them before we left, but anymore it's the last memory I can easily recall of my first and best friends.

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"I don't understand why we have to go at all! I _like _it here! All my friends are here!"

"Cathy…" my mom said, a warning clear in her tone.

"Cathy, I know this isn't at all what you want to do…but the truth is, well, I was fired from my job," my dad said, bowing his head a little. His expression was so sad and weary that I felt awful for my selfish outburst.

"Oh, daddy…I'm sorry." I _was_ sorry too. I had no idea that anything had even been wrong.

Dad looked at me, a sad affectionate smile playing on his lips. "It's alright honey. Your mother and I didn't want to worry you. But your older now, a teenager, and we thought you should know the truth, that knowing it might make things easier for you."

I nodded dully and stared down at the plate of food in front of me. Suddenly I wasn't very hungry. It was unfair of me, and childish, but I had the sudden urge to scream at my father. It was all _his _fault that we were leaving! Then I looked across the table at my little brother sitting there. His constantly mournful expression looking even more sad in the low light from the dining room candles. He was probably just as sad as I was about leaving. It had taken him so long to make a friend in school. He was eleven years old and had just recently found someone who would actually talk to him. Even though I didn't really like Trowa's friend Heero, he was good for my brother. No doubt wherever we were moving to would be hard on Trowa.

I never had trouble making friends. I was outgoing and friendly while Trowa was a moody quiet boy. When we were little Trowa and I were each others' best friends. Then I made other friends, moved on to a social understanding or level that he seemed unable to reach. It made my heart ache to look at him and see him staring back at me with such hopelessness. He understood better than anyone else, even my mom to whom he used to cling like a leach, how difficult it would be to start all over again.

"I think I'm going to go to bed," I said softly.

My father nodded. His eyes were pinched and if I didn't know better, I would have thought he was angry at me. I thought that maybe it would have been better for him to be angry at me, after all it's natural for parents to get angry at their children once in a while. It terrified me that that anger was directed at himself.

_-------------_

_Tap. Tap. Tap._ The soft knocking brought me out of a light sleep and I reached above me for the night lamp above my bed. Switching on the light and throwing back the covers I went to open the door to my room.

Trowa stood outside looking nervous and small in his flannel pajamas.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," he said very softly. It sounded like there were tears in his voice.

"What is it Trowa?" I kept my voice pitched low so I wouldn't wake up our parents sleeping just down the hall.

"It's…It's…." He was so clearly upset that I couldn't help but reach out and bring him to me in a hug. He didn't return it, just stood there shivering. I pushed back the sleep-rumpled hair over his face to feel his forehead for fever but he felt fine. At least as far as I could tell. I didn't really know how hot someone was supposed to feel before they were considered sick.

"Are you sick?"

"No."

"Did you have a bad dream." Ah, that was it. I felt stupid for not asking before. Of course it was a nightmare. Nightmares had always plagued him since he was a baby. I was just surprised that he had come to me instead of our mom.

He seemed to sense this and slowly put his small arms around me.

"I didn't want to wake up Mom and Dad. They're upset about moving and stuff." His voice was muffled against my oversized night shirt.

"That's ok. Do you want to sleep in my room tonight?" He nodded his head a little and I guided him back into my room. We both curled up in my bed, facing away from each other. He seemed more calm after I had pulled the covers over us both.

"I'll keep the nightmares away," I whispered softly, trying to say it like mom always did.

He nodded again and I caught a very quiet "thank you" before my eyes got too heavy and I fell asleep.

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The next few weeks passed in a blur. I don't remember going to school or hanging out with my friends, though I'm sure I did at some point. It was like I suddenly woke up on the day of the move to find all of our furniture gone, packed away into the moving truck. Walking through the halls of what used to be my home on that last day held little or no meaning for me. It was no longer the place where I had grown up. It looked so strange and bare. All the windows were uncovered and the bright walls that still held the faint shadows from where our furniture had stood were glaringly white. Our old house looked ten times bigger than it had before and felt ten times emptier. I was glad when we finally went out the front door for the last time. I didn't want to remember my first home that way.

Outside was a different matter. The tall leafy trees that stood sentinel in our front yard looked the same as ever. The daffodils and snapdragons my mom and I had planted together were growing in the little gardens along the foundations of the house. Running my hand down the familiar handrails of the steps brought tears to my eyes. We were really leaving.

"Say 'bye' to the house," my mom said, nudging Trowa in the back affectionately. Trowa just gave a little half-wave before turning and climbing in the back seat of the van and slamming his headphones down over his ears.

"Bye house," I replied dully. A sad look crossed my mom's face and she turned away as well, giving a little pull on my dad's sleeve. He too said his goodbyes and then headed for his car. I couldn't bear to stand there any longer. Trying not to cry I ran for the passenger's seat of my dad's little two-door sports car and jumped in, refusing to look back and the friendly old house that had sheltered us so well for so many years.

------------

Looking over the maps I was astonished to note that I had no real conception of where we were going. All mom and dad had mentioned was that our new house was in Wyoming. At the time I had been too busy lamenting over the loss of my friends and home to really give our new destination much thought. All I knew of Wyoming came from watching shows on the Discovery Channel about Yellowstone National Park.

"Do you think we'll be able to go to Yellowstone sometime?" I asked, trying to draw my father out of the funk that had possessed him since leaving town.

"Hmm? Oh, well sure. It's not too far from where we'll be living, so I'm sure we'll be able to get up there lots." I had never really seen my dad so distracted before and certainly never when talking to me. Sulkily I turned back to staring out the window of the car, watching farm country go wizzing by the window.

"So where are we going to live?" I asked, trying not to let my frustration become too apparent in my voice.

"I told you sweetheart. It's in the Grand Teton Mountains. It's just temporary anyway, just a summer gig."

"What are we going to be doing there?" I asked, trying out my sweetest possible little-girl voice. It worked. With a little smile my dad turned and looked at me for the first time that day.

"I've not been very fun to ride with lately, have I?" he asked with a chuckle.

"It's ok dad. I know you're worried."

"If you want you can ride with mom and Trowa for a while…no? Alright then. Well we're actually going to be living near a lodge in the mountains. It's open for tourism during the summer, but not many people actually come up there. Mostly hikers and horse back riders from what I've been told. There's a ranger's station there, so we'll at least have a little company, but mostly it's just going to be the four of us."

"No kids? What about the town we'll be living in? Do you think there'll be a movie theatre?" So far this place sounded horrible.

"Nope, no kids. We won't even be living in a town. We're watching over a large home that belongs to a friend of a friend so to speak. There's the ski lodge and ranger's station a few miles away and that's about it."

"That's it? So what am I supposed to _do _all summer?" I was all but yelling. I couldn't believe this! What kind of sick joke was the world trying to pull on me? I was supposed to spend an entire summer up in mountains with no one for miles around and nothing to do?

"Cathy calm down," my father said sternly, eyeing me from behind his thick sunglasses, "You'll have lots to do. We'll go hiking a lot, and you could explore the woods around the house. It'll be like an adventure! Maybe we could even get Trowa to go outside for once. He ought to get out in the sun more…"

I wasn't about to make my dad any more angry with me so I kept my thoughts to myself and let him prattle on. _I hate adventures._ I thought angrily. _Especially when there's no one to have them with_. Trowa was the only other kid I would be able to interact with and he hardly counted. Trowa didn't even like going outside, much less going on 'adventures.' My dad was crazy if he thought Trowa would miraculously come around and take to enjoying the grand outdoors.

Time passed slowly in the car, as it always seems to. It took us a good four days to reach our destination. As much as I was expecting to hate Wyoming I was enchanted with the plateaus, the sage brush desert, and finally the mountains which I had never seen before. It was all so different but beautiful. And so very quiet. I think that was one of the last things I noticed but an important realization just the same. We were so high up in the desert mountains that the only sounds of life coming from insects, birds, and small animals were harsh sounding and utterly wild. The constant wind rustling through the pine trees was haunting and soothing all at once and my mind had a hard time reconciling the two feelings. The slight aspen trees that twitched and shivered with the smallest puffs of wind were very pretty but in the moonlight looked vaguely skeletal.

We reached our new home for the summer late at night. My dad woke me with a gentle shake and then proceeded to unload our most important luggage from the car. I sluggishly clambered out and went to grab my own bag. Trowa was hauling his backpack along the ground by the straps, stumbling tiredly up to the house. In the extreme darkness of the forest and lack of any and all city lights I could only make out the outline of the place. Even with that though I was stunned. The house was huge! It looked as though the owner had thought to construct a palace up in the middle of the Wyoming wilderness.

I stopped and stared for a full minute until a feeling of uneasyness crept through me. It was so quiet. The wind in the trees and the strange smell of the mountain, like very old dust and pine needles, made me realize just how isolated we were. Beyond my limited vision my sleep-riddled mind imagined creatures lurking in the dark shadows, watching me. Ahead of me I could see Trowa still struggling with his heavy bag. The urge to run up and make sure he was safe was overpowering. I was soon panting up the hill to the front porch of the mansion house in the high elevation, listening to my ear drums pop for what seemed like the millionth time that day.

I had to get to Trowa. Something like desperation and sudden fear knawed at me. Trowa wasn't safe.

"Trowa!" I called out, my voice sounding weak and feeble in the encroaching darkness. He didn't seem to hear me.

"Trowa!" I yelled a little lounder. This time he stopped and turned around, pulling one headphone away from his ear to hear who was shouting at him. Seeing it was only me he turned around, his small shoulders drooping, and continued his way up to the house. All the while my mind screamed at me 'faster!' 'faster!' I couldn't let anything happen to him!

When I finally caught up with him we were at the foot of the steps that led up to a wide wooden porch. I snagged the back of his shirt and pulled him around to face me.

"Don't…ever…do that…again!" I panted in his face.

"Do what?" he asked, a bemused smile flitting over his face.

"Ignore me like that! You…there was something…you could have gotten hurt!" I ground out.

"I'm fine. Gees, you're so weird sometimes." With that he turned and plodded up the steps, a hollow 'thonk' sounding out with each step on the old wooden boards. I quickly followed him up, the sense of dread and desperation that had been so real a few minutes before fading rapidly. I was being stupid. There was nothing here that was going to hurt us.

Having decided this, I nodded smartly to myself and proceeded up the steps. As my foot landed upon the bottom step I shook my head at my own childishness and obvious fear of the dark. I would have to work on that.

It wasn't until I reached to top of the steps that I came out of my own thoughts and noticed something was wrong. Trowa was standing very still in front of the door, barely breathing, both hands latched securely on the door knob as if the skin of his hands had been frozen around the gold metal.

"Trowa? You…." My voice caught in my throat as I came closer and saw the expression on his face. Complete and utter terror.

As I opened my mouth to call for help an icy hand closed around my own.

_Tbc…_

* * *

1 Natdia is Paiute Indian word meaning Ghost Dance 

_From http/en. wikipedia. org/wiki/GhostDance _(no spaces in address)

The Paiute tradition that lead to the _Natdia_ (Ghost Dance) began in the 1870 in the Western Great Basin from the visions of _Wodziwob_ (Gray Hair) concerning earth renewal and the reintroduction of the spirits of ancient _Numu_ (Northern Paiute) ancestors into the contemporary day to help the _Numu_.

This movement continued with additional revelation to a Paiute known as _Wovoka_ (Woodcutter) during a solar eclipse. Central to the _Natdia_ religion was the dance itself - dancing in a circular pattern continuously - which induced a state of religious ecstasy.

The dance as envisioned by Wovoka: "When you get home you must begin a dance and continue for five days. Dance for four successive nights, and on the last night continue dancing until the morning of the fifth day, when all must bathe in the river and then return to their homes. You must all do this in the same way. ...I want you to dance every six weeks. Make a feast at the dance and have food that everybody may eat." _He also told the dancers to remain peaceful, work for the Whites, be truthful, and abstain from alcohol._

The _Natdia_, it is claimed, brings about renewal of native society and decline in the influence of the Whites. In essence, it is said to heal the earth and to heal all the people of the four worlds, that is, red, black, white, and yellow.

Believers in the Ghost Dance spirituality are convinced that performing the Ghost Dance will eventually reunite them with their ancestors coming by railway from the spirit world. The ancestor spirits, including the spirit of Jesus, are called upon to heal the sick and to help protect Mother Earth. Meanwhile, the world will return to a primordial state of natural beauty, opening up to swallow up all other people (those who do not have a strong spirituality based upon the earth). The performers of the Ghost Dance theoretically will float in safety above with their ancestors, family, and peoples of the world who follow the extensive spirituality.


	2. Chapter 2

Natdia: Chapter Two

By NostalgieMalaak

Warnings: none really

Disclaimer: don't own

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I couldn't help it. The scream that burst from my lips could have woken the dead. Maybe it did.

Wail after wail of pure terror kept coming out of my mouth but it seemed like the rest of my body was incapable of moving. Trowa's shrill voice jarred against my ears and finally snapped me out of my hysteria.

"…don't hurt her! Don't hurt her!" he was screaming over and over again. I didn't have the presence of mind to wonder to whom or what he was talking. Suddenly strong arms wrapped around me from behind. It was all I could do not to scream again, and maybe I tried to, but my throat was too raw to produce much more than a muted squeak.

"Cathy! Cathy!" My dad chanted in my ear. His breath was warm against the side of my face and very very slowly I let myself collapse into his arms. I didn't cry. I couldn't. All I could do was shiver in his arms.

I looked over to see my mom cradling a sickly Trowa in her arms, casting worried glances at me.

My dad carefully lifted my in his arms like he used to when I was little and carried my to the door. The house was unlocked. The gold plated doorknob opened with complete ease and the door itself didn't even creak when he kneed it open.

Not bothering to look around I buried my face in my dad's warm chest and let him carry me for a while. He laid me down on a couch, but it was so dark that I couldn't even tell what room we were in or how big it was. It felt big though. Big and empty. I shook a little as his arms left me but calmed down again when his calloused thumb brushed over my forehead.

"I'm right here kiddo. You just lie there and try to relax."

"Trowa…?" I asked feebly.

"He's right here too, he's on the other couch. Will you two be ok for a minute while I go turn on the lights?"

I nodded a little and felt him move away. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt two little hands pressing up against me but it was only Trowa. I moved over on the big couch so that he could lay next to me. His breathing was erratic and he felt really cold to the touch. I could smell the hamburger he had eaten at dinner on his breath as he breathed into my face.

"Your breath stinks," I whispered.

"So does yours," a slight smile quirked up the corners of his mouth.

Mom came in quietly and threw a blanket over the both of us, taking a moment to brush her soft hand through my hair. My mom's always been the quiet one in the family. Showing us how much she loves us with little touches and a soothing presence.

"Mom?" I couldn't believe how sleepy I was. Now that the adrenaline had worn off I could tell how sore and tired I was from the long trip.

"What is it sweetie?" she asked, coming back to sit on the edge of the couch. Even with Trowa and me laying on it there was enough room for her to sit down.

"Will you stay with me 'till we fall asleep?"

"Of course. You just had a bad scare. Close your eyes and try to sleep."

"'K," I mumbled before I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer and drifted into unconsciousness.

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Daylight was the first thing that registered in my tired mind. Daylight that was slashing across my eyes and preventing me from more sleep. With a resigned sigh I pushed myself up and realized that I had no idea where I was.

The room was small but brightly decorated. A large window to the right of the small twin bed I had woken up on let in massive amounts of sunlight. And the view! Right outside the window rose the Grand Teton Mountains in all their majesty. The sun had risen over them and was washing the east side of the mansion in bright yellow light.

After enjoying the spectacular scenery I took a look at the rest of the room. The furniture was a friendly white color, trimmed with little blue flowers and vines. A wicker chair rested in the corner next to the window. It's cushioned seat looked like a cozy place to curl up with a good book on a snowy afternoon. Disappointment set in for a moment as I realized that we would be leaving long before winter. It was strange that I even thought this way. After all, I was in a new place with no friends, no town, and wilderness surrounding me for miles. I should have been unhappy, but I was surprised to find that I wasn't. Perhaps it was the room. It was too cheerful and warm to let me be unhappy for long.

On the far side of the room were clustered three doors. The one closest to the chair turned out to be a tiny closet. It was a good thing I didn't have that many cloths or I'd have to find somewhere else to store them. The door next to it led to a tiny bathroom. My own bathroom! I was so excited with the prospect that I jumped up and down for a moment. Then realizing that I was thirteen and teenagers don't do stupid things like that I calmed down and took a closer look.

The fixtures in the bathroom were old but clean. The bathtub took up most of the space and was far deeper than I had imagined. It's lip came up to my waist. It should have looked far too out of place with it's massive size against the tiny space and smaller pieces of furniture but for some reason it didn't. There was a small toilet with a real wooden lid and a sick and small counter, also done in wood. The best feature of all was the mirror that hung over the sink. It was small, oval, and beautifully wrought with some sort of metal and painted to look gold. It looked like something that one would find in a French castle or something. I loved it.

The last door in the room led out into a hallway with think plush carpeting. Several other doors (which I assumed led to other bedrooms) were scattered along the hall. Whoever owned the house must have had a lot of children, or at least entertained a lot of guests.

It wasn't until I was halfway down the wide wood-banister staircase that I remembered the events of last night. A cold chill crept up my spine and made my scalp tingle. My room and the hallway had seemed so inviting and homey that I had completely forgotten the terror of the night before.

Just as soon as it came the feeling of dread passed. I had been acting so stupid all day! Nothing bad had happened last night. I just had a bad scare, that's all. Nothing was going to hurt Trowa and absolutely nothing reached out and grabbed my hand. God I was stupid. I just hoped my mom and dad didn't think I was crazy now.

"Cathy?"

The quiet voice from behind me almost made me fall flat on my face.

"God Trowa! You scared the crap out of me!"

"Sorry. Mom says you shouldn't say God." Trowa replied from the landing above me.

"Well the Bible says it, so I can say it too," I snapped back, "What are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?"

"Nooo, just wanted to ask you something."

That stopped me. Trowa rarely ever comes to me for help. My mom always has to be the one to cajole me into helping him when he's too embarrassed to ask.

"What is it?"

"Did you…last night…" The stricken look on his face hit me hard.

"I just had a bad scare, that's all. Nothing happened. I was just scared."

"No that's not what I mean," he interrupted quickly, "I was scared too. There was something there."

"Something there?"

"Ya. I thought I saw something. It grabbed your hand."

I couldn't breathe. It wasn't possible. Not possible at all. I just imagined the whole thing because I was tired and it was dark. No way something was really there last night.

"Cathy?"

"CATHY!"

"Coming Mom!" I yelled over my shoulder. "Well, whatever you do Tro, don't tell Mom and Dad. They'll just freak again."

He just rolled his eyes at me as if to say 'I'm not _that _stupid.'

Walking in the direction of my mom's voice I began to take in the house around me. It seemed smaller than it had last night in the dark. Then again, I only _felt _how big it was. Last night I also felt something that clearly wasn't there grab my hand. I hate being afraid of the dark.

Trowa had taken advantage of my slow pace to hurry fast me towards what I assumed was the kitchen. Something smelled like breakfast cooking at any rate. I left off my visual exploration of the large rooms and highly ornamented furniture to find food.

After taking several wrong turns down almost identical looking hallways I found a small flight of stairs leading into the kitchen. The kitchen itself looked tiny compared to the rest of the house. Two wide counters framed the right and back walls and large appliances took up the left wall. A floating counter dominated what little space there was between the counter a stove. To the right of the entryway was a large wooden booth-like table structure and that looked like it had been taken out of some cheesy western diner. Nothing in the kitchen matched. It was just about the ugliest room I had ever seen.

Trowa seemed not to notice as he worked his way through a plateful of hash browns and sausage.

"Where'd you get the food Mom?" I asked.

"Oh, Cathy! There you are. I was worried you had gotten lost…sit down and have something to eat." I sat down on the bouncy vinyl-covered seat of the booth across from Trowa. I grabbed his glass of orange juice and took a gulp of it.

"Hey! That's mine!"

"Ya snooze ya lose."

"Cathy don't drink Trowa's juice, he might still be sick." I grimaced a little. I had forgotten that Trowa had just gotten over a bad cold. Mom plopped a plate of hash browns and sausage and a glass of juice down in front of me before snagging herself a plate. Trowa scooted over a little so she could sit next to him.

"Mom you didn't answer my question." I said annoyed. It's like she forgets my questions just to make me mad.

"Oh, I got some at the last grocery store we stopped at. Put it in the cooler on the way up."

"Where's dad?"

"He had to go into town to get a few things."

"There's a town! Awesome. Can we go sometime?" Finally a little civilization!

"Maybe this weekend. It's a half hour drive from here and we have to get unpacked. Why don't you take Trowa and go explore after breakfast?"

I sulked at this idea. Ya right, take Trowa. Even if I could get him away from his music and game systems there was no way he would be fun company. Trowa never was and never has been a nature boy.

"Maybe," I said, putting as much doubt in my voice as possible. If you want him to get better so bad then maybe you should take us someplace where he can have a friend. Learn how to socialize. Not dump him off in the wilderness. Sometimes I wonder if my parents know my little brother at all.

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I was more than a little surprised to find Trowa already standing outside after I had run upstairs to change and put on some sturdy shoes. He was standing on the wide porch that ran along the front of the house picking at splinters of wood along the railing.

"Mom make you come out?" I asked moodily.

"Ya."

"Fine, but don't expect me to wait around for you. You'll have to keep up." He just looked dispassionately at me. Stupid little brothers.

It wasn't that I really wanted to explore what looked like extremely dangerous bear infested forest, but it was better than being around my mom while she was trying to unpack. Many family vacations had taught me that she had a system and nobody was to mess up that system. Same way with cleaning the house.

I jumped off the side of the porch where the railing had been knocked down and picked a random direction in which to start walking. In no time I was struggling through high weeds and wildflowers that left little burrs clinging to my pants. Trowa wasn't far behind me.

When we got to the wooded area the going got a little easier. The scent of pine and sap assaulted my nose. It was so different than anything I had ever imagined. It smelled so…dry. I was used to big thick green trees that smelled like the last rain storm and leaf-strewn paths that made the ground spongy. Another thing I noticed was the quiet. It was so silent I could hear Trowa panting several yards behind me and the wind through the trees. Nothing else.

After a while the elevation started to catch up with me and it got harder and harder to breathe.

"Trowa," I panted, "Do you need to stop and rest for a sec?"

"No…I'm fine…" he said, equally as winded.

"Well, then I'll just take a break."

"Okay," he said with relief.

We both sat down on an old log that looked like something huge and vicious had mauled it. I swatted at little bugs that were trying to land on my sweat-damp skin, hoping they weren't mosquitoes. Being itchy, out of breath, and hot wasn't really the good time I had been looking for when I decided to take a walk. Maybe we would have been better off having mom yell at us for messing up the unpacking process.

When we had sufficiently regained our breath we started walking again. In the shade of the trees it was much cooler. I was starting to wish I had brought a sweatshirt or something.

Up ahead was a large meadow like the one the mansion was built on. I hurried my pace a little, eager to be back in the sunlight. Tripping over small roots and scattering rocks left and right I eventually found myself running out of the trees. I laughed happily as sunlight once more touched my face and the sound of insects covered some of the oppressive silence.

Trowa was jumping over weeds and flowers making his way towards me. If I hadn't known better I would have sworn he was enjoying himself. That's why I immediately noticed when he stopped and froze in place. Just like the night before his face had drained of color and he was staring at something I obviously couldn't see.

"Trowa?" My voice came out sounding harsh and strained. "Trowa, what's the matter?"

Gulping visibly he raised a shaking hand to point behind me. My breath fast and hard in my ears and slowly turned to see what he was looking at. The meadow suddenly seemed much too bright. It hurt my eyes to look at anything for too long. The sound of insects had mysteriously vanished. Even the constant sound of the wind through the trees had stopped. It was like time altogether had halted for just this moment.

I finally completed the turn and stared. I blinked my eyes and stared again. I didn't know what Trowa was looking at. All I could see was a small dirt hill that was completely barren of weeds or grass. Then another…and another…all of them stretched out in perfect rows.

"Oh my God…what is this?"

"Cathy I want to leave!" Trowa squeaked out. "Cathy please!"

"Are they…are they…graves?"

"I don't know, I don't know, I don't wanna know…" Trowa was covering his eyes with his hands, refusing to let himself see whatever it was that was scaring him so badly.

I could feel whatever it was that had him so terrified. It was seeping through my cotton shirt and brushing against my pant legs like an invisible cool wave.

"I want to get a little closer," I heard myself say. Trowa didn't hear me over his terrified litany.

I took a few steps forward so I was at the edge of the nearest mound. There was something so odd about it though. It was so small. They were all too small. There was no way this could be a graveyard. Where were all the adults' graves? And why would there be a graveyard out in the middle of the forest and no headstones? It didn't make any sense.

"I don't understand," I moaned softly, fear clenching around my chest. "I don't understand."

"Please don't hurt me…don't hurt Cathy…please don't hurt me…don't hurt Cathy…"

_Tbc_

* * *

Anyone have any guesses as to where, in my mind at least, this story is set? Sorry for the slow update. I have no excuse.

-Nostalgie


	3. Chapter 3

Natdia: Chapter Three

By NostalgieMalaak

Warnings: disturbing content

Disclaimer: don't own

* * *

I'm not sure how long the two of us stood there looking at those sad little mounds of earth. Long enough to know there was something terribly wrong about the whole thing though.

The wind began to pick up and dust blowing off the pine trees was getting into my eyes. Looking up I noticed that the sky had turned an ominous black. When had a storm come in? We couldn't have been out long enough for it to creep up on us so unnoticed.

I whirled around to tell Trowa about the storm but he had obviously already seen it. His small feet were pounding against the ground in an effort to get back to the house before the storm hit. I took off after him worried that he was going to trip and fall over the uneven ground or go tumbling down the steep slopes that cropped up out of nowhere.

Soon enough my fears were realized and I saw him tumble and fall to his hands and knees. His back and shoulders were heaving with exertion but with his face away from me I couldn't tell how much pain he was in. Catching up to him I placed a hand on his shoulder and let my own labored breathing even out.

"Tro? Trowa? You ok?"

"Ya, just fell. I'm ok," he panted out.

"Let's take it slower ok? We shouldn't get too wet in the trees anyway." I hoped not anyway. The trees didn't seem to be cutting down the whipping wind that much. I doubted that the frail looking pine and aspen trees would protect us from a heavy rain.

"Can you get up? Do you need me to carry you?" I asked.

"No, I'm ok. 'Sides, you can't carry me. I'm too heavy." He grimaced a little as he stood up.

"I could carry you if I wanted. Look, your knees are all scraped up. Get on my back, I'll carry you."

"No, it's ok. I'm fine." Trowa insisted.

"Come on! You're hurt and I can carry you. I'm not a wimp you know!" With that I knelt down and motioned for him to hold unto my shoulders. He did so reluctantly. Getting back up with Trowa ridding piggy-back was another matter. Finally after several long agonizing minutes I got my feet underneath me and heaved myself up. Trowa was a lot heavier than I thought he would be. Not only that but our difference in height wasn't as great as I thought it was. Even with him gripping me with his knees his legs dangled almost to the ground.

We only made it a little ways before I realized there was no way I could carry Trowa all the way home. He was just too heavy and I was still unused to the change in altitude.

"Tro, get off. You're too heavy," I said, frustrated that he had been right after all.

"Told you so."

Stupid brothers. He could have at least thanked me for offering to carry him.

I couldn't be mad at him though. His legs must have been hurting because he kept bending over and pressing his hands against his knees. Through the tears in his pants I could see a little bit of blood. I just hoped we would get home soon. I didn't know what to do for him.

That hope for reaching home seemed more and more remote the longer we kept walking. We should have gotten back a little while ago. I didn't remember the trip out being so long.

"Trowa? You know where you're going?" I finally asked.

He didn't answer or even turn around to acknowledge me. Guess that meant he knew where he was going.

With no warning a bright flash of light followed almost instantaneously with a resounding crack filled the sky. I cried out a little in fear and saw Trowa drop to the ground ahead of me. Following his example I threw my hands over my head and lay belly-down in the dirt.

Then the downpour began.

The rain had started just as we were passing through an empty meadow. I got up quickly and darted towards the tree line on the far side of the open area, Trowa not a foot behind me. Within thirty steps the two of us were soaked. The hems of our pants were caked with mud from the rain and dirt being churned up under our passing feet. There was a slight intake of breath behind me before I felt Trowa grab desperately onto the back of my shirt and haul me to the ground as he fell. We ended in a tangle of mud and prickly weeds. Squirming around so I was no longer on top of my brother I saw that he had tripped over his shoelaces that had come loose.

A wild urge to giggle at the sight was stifled when I looked around us.

We were back in the meadow with the small mounds.

"Cathy! Get off, you're squishing me!"

I distractedly moved off of one of his legs that was still pinned under me. His head snapped up as he too took in our surroundings. He moaned low in his throat like a sick dog and his face crumpled up.

"How…? How did we get back here?" I shook his shoulder as I asked. We were both trembling and filthy and rain continued to beat down on us. It was stingingly cold, more like the temperature of snow than rain.

"Cathy, let's get out of here!" Trowa moved to stand up again. Just as he had gained his feet a chill went through my entire body and an invisible force shoved him roughly to the ground again. His body landed near mine with a small thud and an instant later a stroke of lightening hit a tall tree on the edge of the meadow. The force of the electricity even as far away as it was forced me back to the ground. I cried out as I felt my whole body tingling with more than the sudden cold spell.

I didn't know how I knew, but I felt it in my bones that had Trowa been standing up at the time, the lightening would have struck him instead of the tree.

----------

Sobbing and miserable, Trowa and I curled up beside a huge boulder resting a ways down the meadow from where we had been when the lightning struck. We were out of the wind but the rain was still coming straight down on top of us. I was too afraid to try and reach the trees. What if another lightening bolt struck the forest? How far did electricity travel? I really wished that I had paid attention in my Earth Science class.

At least from behind the boulder we couldn't see the dirt mounds. I don't know why but they gave me a chill just looking at them.

"Cathy?" Trowa asked, raising his voice above the storm.

I considered not answering him. If he was going to complain to me about how this was all m fault I didn't want to hear it.

"Cathy?" He tried again. The plaintiveness in his voice made me look up at him.

"What Tro?"

"Did you see him?" He asked simply.

"See who?"

"The little boy that pushed me to the ground."

"Wha…what little boy Trowa?" This was fast turning into something I didn't want to hear about. I had always known that Trowa was…well…unique, but if he started talking about seeing people who weren't there I wouldn't know what to do with him. Trowa wasn't crazy. He couldn't be. _No way_.

But….what if he was? What would Mom and Dad do? Would they send him away to some insane asylum? Trowa was only eleven; surely they only sent adults to places like that.

"You ok Cathy?" Trowa asked. I couldn't see most of his face. His wet bangs had plastered themselves over his face and were completely covering one eye.

"Ya."

"So you didn't see him?" Trowa asked a little impatiently.

"No, I don't know what you're talking about Tro!"

"The boy in the meadow! He pushed me down right before the lightning hit that tree. He had on some sort of white dress or something," Trowa's face scrunched up in confusion.

"There was a boy in a white dress out in the meadow?" I was having a hard time connecting everything Trowa was saying. It was like half his words were in a language I didn't understand.

"Ya, that's what I just said! He had blonde hair and blue eyes and was wearing this white robe thingy."

"And he pushed you down?"

"Ya. Right before the lightning."

"Trowa…I didn't see anyone there."

"He was right there! I'm telling you! He pushed me down and then he smiled at me!"

"I was looking right at you and there was no one there Trowa!" He must be crazy. There was no one there!

"Yes he was! Yes he was!" He was starting to get a little hysterical now, twisting his soaked shirt around and around his hands.

"Oh ya? Then where did he go?" That stopped him. Trowa's eyes got really big and for a horrible moment I thought he was going to break down and cry. His face was so white I could see the small veins in his cheeks and the black smudge under his one visible eye. The pained expression on his face made me want to weep apologies to him. I didn't though. Anger was so much easier to deal with then fear.

I _was _angry too. It was like he was saying these things just to scare me. Couldn't he see that I was soaked and dirty and scared as it was? I certainly didn't need this crazy talk added to it all.

"I saw him, I know I did," he whispered, bowing his head. I couldn't tell if the streaks on his cheeks were tears or rain.

We didn't talk for a long time. The storm eventually tapered off and we shakily climbed to our feet. I was so cold I couldn't feel my hands. I roughly shoved them into my pockets and started heading back towards where I thought the house was. There was no way I was going to let _him_ lead this time.

After only about twenty minutes of walking I caught a glimpse of the roof of the mansion rising over the tree tops.

I breathed a sigh of relief and turned to smile at Trowa. It was like all of my anger and anxiety from before had evaporated when I saw the house.

Trowa smiled back a little. All was forgiven between the two of us. That's always the way it was with us. Both of us were too stubborn to ever out and out apologize to each other.

We made it half-way through the clearing in front of the house before my mom came running out, letting the front door smack harshly into its frame as the wind whipped it shut.

I could tell we were in trouble before I even got a good look at her face.

-----------

I was back in the meadow with the graves. Overhead the sky was a strange green-gray color and everything was deathly still. Turning around in circles a few times I realized that I was alone. Where was Trowa? Hadn't he been here with me too?

Shaking my head in bewilderment I turned to walk home but I couldn't get any closer to the tree line. No matter how fast I ran towards the forest it always stayed the same distance away. I knew I was moving though because the placement of the grave mounds changed slightly the more I ran. It was like going around in circles even though I was running in a straight line.

Panic started to set in when I realized there was no way I could reach the edge of the creepy meadow.

Another thing that bothered me was the lack of sound. Since coming to our new home I had been constantly aware of the sound of wind through the trees and the call of birds and insects. I glanced at the sky above me. Maybe it was the calm before the storm? I had always heard of such a thing but never really experienced it before.

The storm never came. The sky stayed that same flat greenish-gray color that had been since I found myself in the meadow.

Finding the boulder Trowa and I had hid next to I jogged over to it. It was a lot bigger than I had first thought it to be. After several minutes of walking around it I found the least steep side and set myself to climbing up it.

Several scraped knees and hands later I managed to half claw, half pull myself to the top.

_Now what?_

From the vantage point on top of the huge rock I could see the layout of the graves better. They were lined in five rows, six graves to each row. I couldn't tell the difference between them at this distance, they all looked completely uniform.

Puzzled and letting my curiosity overweigh my fear I slid down from my perch and approached the first row of small mounds.

They looked so sad close up. If they were graves (which there was little doubt in my mind that they were) then there was no way to tell who was buried in them. No headstones, no markers of any kind what-so-ever.

Squatting down next to one I picked up some of the earth from the heap and let it sift through my fingers. It was very fine, more like dust than dirt.

Just like the first night at the house and again in the meadow with Trowa during the rainstorm I felt a chill creep over my entire body. The hairs on the back of my neck lifted and I knew without doubt that I was being watched again.

Standing up I brushed my hand against my pant leg and as calmly as I could turned around.

There behind me stood the very boy Trowa had described to me.

He was very young, no more than five or six. His hair was white-blonde and made his dark blue eyes seem infinitely deep. He was clothed in a strange white dress. It looked like an over-sized long sleeved shirt that reached his ankles except that it seemed to fit him perfectly. It reminded me of the costumes the guys had to wear in our Christmas show when they played the shepherds or the wise men. It was very strange to see it on a little blonde boy.

Bringing myself out of scrutinizing him I noticed that he was staring at me intently. Like he wanted to say something but couldn't.

"Hello?" I said very quietly. He didn't look very afraid of me but I was afraid that any loud noise would startle him.

The corners of his mouth turned up in a little smile. He raised a pale hand a pointed to somewhere behind me, towards the middle of the plot of graves.

Turning around to look my heart stopped in my chest. Behind me a hellish looking bonfire burned in the sudden night. In the light of the red flames I could see a tall man holding a wickedly curved knife in one hand and the outstretched hand of the same blonde boy in the other.

In one swift move the man had slashed a deep gash into the boy's arm. The blonde didn't seem affected in the least. In the firelight his eyes looked clouded over, like he had been drugged.

The blood from the little boy spilled into a small bowl on the ground. An eternity later the man picked up the boy who went limp in his arms like a rag doll and carried him to the other side of the blazing fire. I crept around to the other side, not believing in my head that this could be real but knowing in my heart that it was real, that it had actually happened.

On the other side of the fire was a small rectangular box that the man was reverently laying the boy into. He gently arranged the boy's arms over his chest, staining his bright white robe crimson with blood.

When he picked up the lid to the small box I realized in horror what he was going to do next. Unable to move my body I watched as the tall man fixed the lid onto the box and then gently lowered it into a hole in the ground beside him. Shudder after shudder raced through my body as each shovel full of dirt landed on top of the coffin, securing the tiny boy inside, burying him alive.

Finally able to move my weakened limbs I did the only thing I could do. I screamed.

_Tbc_

* * *

Comments and questions greatly appreciated.

-Nostalgie


	4. Chapter 4

Natdia: Chapter 4

By NostalgieMalaak

Warnings: some disturbing images

Notes: Oh my God. It's a freaking miracle. Didn't ever think I'd get back into this.

Disclaimer: Still don't own 'em. Even the little ones.

* * *

I snapped awake hard enough to rock my head on my neck. A sudden hot pain radiated up from my calf. The combination of the two toppled me out of bed and I barely kept from crying out as I tried to massage away the Charlie-horse in my leg. It was not going to be a good day.

The dream of the little boy and the fire was still very vivid in my mind. The horror of it lingered far longer than I would have liked. I stood up gingerly and tested out my leg. It seemed ok- a little sore, but I could live with that. I needed to find Trowa. He knew a lot more about what had happened than he was letting on.

Approaching the door to his room (only a few rooms down from mine) I hesitated to knock. I didn't want to wake him up. He had been pretty upset after the lecture mom gave us last night. I turned around deciding to forget about my quest until later when I heard voices behind the closed door.

I had never known Trowa to talk to himself and even if he did, it wouldn't explain why there were two distinct voices coming from the bedroom.

"Trowa?" I called out. Silence. Whoever had been speaking to him before went quiet. "Trowa? Can I come in?"

A flurry of whispers erupted at this. I was starting to get really worried. Who was in there?

"Cathy? You can come in…but you have to be quiet. And not freak out." With that the door opened and I stepped in like I was walking on eggshells.

Sitting on the carpeted floor was none other than the blonde boy. I was so startled I stumbled backwards several steps and fell to the floor with a thump after catching my heel on the door frame.

"Wha…how…" Meaningless words tumbled out of my mouth but were quickly quieted as Trowa clapped a hand over my mouth.

"Shhhh! You can't wake up mom and dad!" Trowa hissed.

I was doubly shocked. Trowa was never so mean about things. Who was this little kid and what was he doing in our house!

Prying Trowa's small hand off my face, I quickly scootched forward so he could shut the door behind me. I stared in amazement at the small child in front of me. He seemed just as real as anyone else. And except for the ridiculous outfit he had on, he could have been any little boy running around my neighborhood in the summer. But there weren't any children here. There weren't supposed to be any _people _out here.

"Hello," I said hesitantly, a strong sense of deja-vu washing over me.

"Hello!" The blonde chirped back. That surprised me. In my dream he had seemed unable to speak.

"Who…who are you?" I asked carefully. Trowa sat down forming a triangle between the three of us.

"My name's Quatre," he answered easily enough.

"What are you doing in our house?"

"Trowa invited me in." He cast a sweet look of adoration over at my little brother who beamed at him in return. I controlled the urge to do a double take.

"…And why are you here?" I managed to get out.

"To help you of course!"

"Help us with what?"

"You can't stay here," he said, now looking gravely serious, "There's a bad man here. I don't want him to hurt you."

"Like he hurt you?" I asked, the dream from the night before becoming clearer. Quatre looked puzzled for a moment before nodding solemnly.

"Well, you don't have to worry about us. We're going to be leaving in a few months anyway-"

"No! That's too late! You have to go soon!" He cried out. Bright tears pooled in his eyes and he reached out for Trowa who automatically took his hand.

"He's right Cathy," Trowa said sounding far too old and tired.

"But…but I don't…this is crazy! Are you trying to tell me that our house is being haunted by a little boy who warns unsuspecting people of some…some…bogeyman who's coming to get them!" This was all just too much.

Both boys nodded their heads.

"I just need to wake up, that's all. This is just a dream…just a dream…

------------

My back made a sickening thud as I landed on the floor. It was the second night in a row that I had woken up from a weird dream by falling out of my bed. What was going on?

------------

I decided that mornings were definitely my least favorite time. As the sunlight pierced through my room's picture windows I tried to remember why I had wanted a room that faced east. Pulling my heavy comforter over my head I tried to go back to sleep.

"Cathy! Cathy!"

"What mom?" I growled out. It was summer time. I was supposed to be sleeping in!

"Time to wake up! Your Dad and I are going in to town, do you want to come?"

"Mom stop screaming! And no! I just want to sleep!" Mothers, I swear.

"All right then! Look after Trowa!"

I groaned. Another fun day of watching Trowa mope around the huge house. Ever since the day we had gotten lost we were forbidden to go exploring alone. Trowa was taking it far worse than I thought he would. He normally hated going outside, but all of a sudden he seemed fixated on returning to the creepy meadow. I knew it had to do something with the little blonde boy-Quatre. My dreams about him and Trowa had been coming more and more frequently since that disastrous afternoon. I didn't like thinking about it too much though. It always made me go all cold and feel like little spiders were crawling up my back.

After another hour or so of tossing and turning and imagining spiders skittering all over me I realized I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. Kicking back the covers I managed to drag myself out of bed.

Deciding to be exceptionally lazy I took a bath instead of a shower and relaxed in the steaming hot water for a long time. Around noon I skipped into the kitchen to fix some lunch. I loved summer vacations. Trowa would probably be hungry as well and cooking was always something we liked to do together.

"Trowa? Want some lunch?" I called out.

No answer.

"TROWA!" Stupid brother. Probably just wants to hide all day.

Fed up with waiting around I went to look for him. I searched the spacious living room and dining room, not really expecting to find him there. A search of the entire downstairs also proved fruitless. It wasn't until I peeked into his room and also found it empty that I began to worry.

I began running from room to room throwing open doors in hope that he just didn't want to be found. The thought did cross my mind that maybe he had decided to go with my parents, but seeing only my dad's two-seater sports car gone it didn't seem likely.

There was only one other place that Trowa could have gone. Heart thundering in my ears I ran outside towards the edge of the forest.

---------

The meadow was eerily silent as I reached it and seemingly as empty as we had found it before. Turning around and around in frantic circles I wasn't able to see much of anything. It was only when I calmed down a little and took a good hard look that I saw them. Just barely visible over the high grass and weeds was Trowa's head, a blonde one beside his. They were sitting on the far side of the meadow.

I loped over to the two boys trying to keep quiet. I felt like I was being watched. The sun in the meadow was intense and I had to keep blinking away black spots every time I looked up from the ground.

When I reached the two it seemed like they were waiting for me. They were watching me silently with hooded eyes. Quatre looked like he had been crying.

"Trowa?" I panted out. "What…?"

"I had to see if he was ok. I don't want anyone to hurt him," Trowa whispered. He looked over at the little blonde who was rubbing his arm, pressing his palm into it harshly.

"Is he ok?" I asked nervously. Trowa's brow wrinkled up but he didn't say anything. Not knowing what else to do I sat down next to them, completing the small circle.

After what could have been hours but was probably only minutes I plucked up my nerve to ask some of the questions that had been racing through my mind ever since I had first laid eyes on the strange boy.

"Quatre…who are you? Why are you out here all alone?" I asked gently.

"'m not alone," he sniffled a few times. "My sisters'r here too."

"Your sisters? Where? Is your house nearby?"

He didn't seem like he was going to answer. Instead he leaned into Trowa as if seeking protection. Trowa surprisingly looped an arm around the boy and pulled him closer.

"Quatre are you in danger here?" I felt awkward, like I was disturbing a private moment.

"Quatre used to live in our house," Trowa finally said.

"He did?" Now we were getting somewhere.

"Ya, him and his sisters and his-"

"Don't say it! Don't say it!" Quatre screamed, clasping his pale hands over his head and rocking back and forth. His whole body was trembling.

"Was it the man I saw, Quatre? Did you know him?"

Quatre began crying in earnest. Tears slipped down his porcelain face into Trowa's shirt sleeve.

"It was his dad," Trowa whispered, trying to soothe his young friend. "He killed them all."

-----------

When the wind began to pick up and the sky darken I decided I'd had enough of the outdoors. Enough to last me a lifetime. A chill that had nothing to do with the cold crept along my shoulder blades.

"Come on Trowa, time to go," I said softly. I was about to ask Quatre if he could come with but Trowa shook his head, seeing the intent on my face.

"It's too dangerous for him to come to the house. He's safer here." Trowa stated.

"How is this place safer?" I asked looking around at the wild area.

"_He _doesn't come here," Quatre whispered. "Except to…you know."

A vision of Quatre's small body being laid into the wooden box flashed before me. Ya, I did know.

"We'll think of something Quatre. We'll help you somehow." I said, not really believing there was much we could do.

"You have to leave," Quatre said urgently. "Before it's too late!"

"I won't leave you Quatre!" Trowa cried out.

"No! You have to Trowa! He wants to hurt you Trowa. Just like he hurt me…" Quatre broke off scrubbing at his face as if to get rid of the memory.

"But why?" Trowa squeaked out, he himself looking close to tears.

"I don't know," Quatre whispered dejectedly. With one last look at my brother the boy turned and walked towards the graves. Before he had taken ten steps he had vanished into the landscape.

More sad than frightened I took Trowa's hand in mine and led him home, all the way thinking furiously about how to help Quatre.

----------

Our parents returned from town that evening and by unspoken agreement neither Trowa nor I said anything about what had happened in the meadow. Trowa was more subdued that usual and asked to be excused from the dinner table without eating anything. Dad gave him a worried glance but let him go.

"I'm so sorry to have done this to you kids," he said quietly. "This must be so hard on you, to be all the way out here without anyone to play with, nothing to do."

"It's ok Dad," I said in a small voice. Sensing that I wouldn't be able to eat much anyway I asked to be excused too.

That night I lay in bed thinking about everything but fell asleep before I could find any answers.

That night I dreamed of ghosts.

The mansion on the mountain hill was filled with people. Mostly children to be exact. Little girls in long flowing dresses ran and laughed through the brightly lit rooms and hallways. One after the other they passed in front of me. They were all different but none seemed older than ten or eleven. Some seemed to come from a little older time than others judging by their dress. Ghosts passing through ghosts.

Finally, as though I had been expecting him, a little blonde boy came barreling down the front stairs. He was shrieking in delight as he ran wildly, his blonde locks flying about his head. Suddenly man stepped into view and scooped up the giggling boy. He held him high in the air and Quatre laughed fearlessly. The man was the same from the meadow. Quatre's father.

Quatre seemed unafraid of him. He hugged tightly to his father's neck as the man swung him around to ride piggy-back. The tall man smiled and began to gallop around the room. I remembered doing the same with my father when I was little.

The whole scene made me sick.

I knew what was to happen. There were no more little girls in this time period. They were already dead.

What had gone wrong? Why had the man had so many children, only to kill them all in such a terrible way?

The dream shifted from the mansion out to the meadow. I was prepared to see another grisly scene, or perhaps the one I had seen before, but instead there were many people present. Most were dancing round and round in a circle. A steady drumbeat kept time. It looked like a ceremony of sorts.

I felt a sense of calm and tranquility steal over me. I wasn't afraid or even very excited. Just calm. I felt like I had taken a huge dose of cold medicine. Swaying back and forth to the beat of the drums I let my eyes relax. Through the blurring shapes of the dancers I began to see spectral forms dancing to the beat as well. They stayed close to one person or another and I realized they were the spirits of the dancers' loved ones.

I longed to join in.

-------------

I awoke calmly in the early morning, a sense of purpose solidifying in my mind.

_Tbc_

* * *

Wow, really got on a role with that chapter once I got back into it. Not too much more now until the exciting conclusion!

As always, comments or questions greatly appreciated.

-Nostalgie


	5. Chapter 5

Natdia: Chapter 5

By Nostalgie Malaak

Warnings: might be scary/suspenseful (What? In a ghost story? You're kidding!)

Notes: I apologise for the sarcasm above. And below.

Disclaimer: sigh please don't sue me blah blah blah. I don't own a thing.

* * *

"Dad?" I asked tentatively. He was currently sitting on the front porch reading the local newspaper. Or at least re-reading the paper, it was only about four pages long and over a week old.

"What's up sweetheart?" He smiled at me and patted the rough wood beside him. I sat.

For a while I didn't say anything, trying to come up with the best way to say what I wanted to say without sounding like a scared little kid.

I finally settled on, "How did you get this job? I mean it's pretty remote out here."

"Ah…well that's a bit complicated. A friend of a guy I worked with actually owns the place. He doesn't come up here anymore. Something about his kids having nightmares all the time. Anyway, they needed someone to take care of the place over the summer in case they ever wanted to come back. Why do you ask?"

"Well…it's just that this place…I dunno, just feels kind of funny. Like there's someone watching us all the time or something." I wasn't completely lying. I _did _feel like we were being watched.

"What, turning psychic on me, kiddo?" he laughed. I gave him a weak smile in return.

"Ah, well…look I'll tell you something I heard from a local while your mom and I were in town yesterday. Don't tell Trowa though. He…well he seems troubled enough as it is. You don't happen to know what's gotten into him lately, do you?" Dad looked at me seriously.

"Um, no? He probably just misses Heero," I said.

"Hmm, well probably. Just, if he does anything that worries you, you tell us, all right?" My dad's brow pinched up. It made me realize how alike Trowa and my dad were.

"Ya sure Dad. So, what did the guy in town say?" I prompted.

"Right. Well apparently before the current owner took over the house it was owned by a wealthy Middle Eastern family. The guy couldn't say where they were from, only that he was 'one of those Arabs' whatever that means. Anyhow, the man had a lot of children, something like thirty. He came up here every summer and brought his kids with. Mostly girls. The strange thing was that the same girls were never seen twice. Some people thought maybe they weren't really his daughters and that he was doing….well you're too young to be hearing this….but bad things with those girls.

"Well, turns out they really were his daughters. He had twenty-nine of them in all. Oh and one little boy. And he really was doing bad things with them. The reason nobody ever saw those girls twice was because every summer he brought his newest daughters and then…killed them. He ended up killing all of his children, even the little boy, and burying them somewhere out here before he killed himself. Some people found him and the graves of all his kids out in the woods. It's so crazy. Who would do a thing like that? It really makes me sick.

"I probably shouldn't have told you all that, you'll get nightmares. I just seems…I dunno. This place is pretty strange and after what happened to the other owner and then to you guys the first night we were here…" he trailed off looking a little sheepish.

"Thanks Dad…for telling me. I won't tell Trowa." I said extending my pinky. My dad did the same and we both smiled as we pinky-swore over the matter.

"I'm headed down to town to pick up some gear, want to take a ride with your old man?" My dad asked with a smile.

"Sure, but you're not old." he just chuckled.

----------

I was surprised to find that the dinky little town at the foot of the mountain actually had something of a library. It consisted of one whole room and a loft crammed to the ceiling with boxes of old newspapers and magazines. Most of the main floor was more of a small museum with plaques and old black and white photos. Stuffed foxes, birds, rodents, and even a mountain lion stared at me from their fake wooden perches. The place was dark and smelled like musty cloths.

The historical caretaker at the door gave me a friendly smile and a wave before settling back into her elk antler chair with her trashy romance novel.

"You need anything, just holler," she called out.

"Thanks," I said politely. I don't think she heard me though.

My dad's story about the Arab man, Quatre's father, and all his children had answered a lot of my questions but not all. Why had Trowa been able to see Quatre from the very beginning and what did this evil man's spirit want with him? Trowa was special; I had always known that even when my parents didn't want to see it, but nothing like this had ever happened to him before. At least not that I knew of. Trowa had even stopped telling me about his nightmares a few years back after he and Heero had become friends.

Putting a book shelf between me and the woman up front I started searching the shelves for something that could help. In all honesty I had expected to walk in and see a book saying 'secrets of the creepy meadow revealed!' or something like that. Instead all I found were trail books, camping guides, and books on bird watching.

Towards the very back corner several books caught my eye. They were about the Native American tribes that had traveled freely all over the mountains and plains of the west. Curious I pulled out the first book I saw. Flipping through it quickly I glanced at the old pictures of families long since passed. It made me sad to look on their stoic features and know that they had been gone a long time. It also made me sad to see how poor some of the tribes had been. Nothing like the cowboy and Indian shows that still sometimes played on the old movie channel.

A word towards the back of the book caught my eye. 'Spirits.' Native Americans believed in all sorts of spirits and each tribe seemed to have their own beliefs. One ritual caught my eye. _The Natdia: a tradition of the Paiute people. Said to reunite the spirits of the dead and heal all the peoples of the earth. The earth shall be reborn but the followers of the ghost dance will float above in safety. The ghost dance is performed in a continuous circular pattern._

I wasn't sure why that passage caught my eye until I read the last sentence. That's what I had seen in my dream. The one with the people dancing and the sense of calm. They were dancing in the meadow with the graves. Could the two be connected? I couldn't believe though that the acts Quatre's father had committed there were part of any Native American religious ceremony. Quatre had looked so very calm when his father had performed the act though. Was that part of the ritual, or were the spirits of the dead trying to help Quatre? The book mentioned nothing of horrible blood rituals and besides it didn't feel right. I had only felt peace when watching the dancing, not danger.

I left the small museum/library more puzzled than when I had come in. The lady in the chair didn't look up from her novel as I left. It seemed to take forever to drive back up to the house but I was glad for the wait. That house scared me more everyday and I was sure Quatre was right when he said we needed to leave.

Despite my ominous feelings the day was beautiful. The sky was bright blue without even a hint of clouds and the cool mountain air felt wonderful against my face as I ran back up the path towards the house, leaving my dad behind to lug up all his rented fishing gear. Since coming to the mountains my dad had become a regular mountain man, trying out all sorts of outdoors-y activities.

Taking a deep breath of the clean pine scented air I bounded into the house feeling rejuvenated from the little trip down the mountain. At first I didn't notice the quiet. Or rather, I had grown so used to the big house being so silent with so few people that I didn't notice anything out of place. But a feeling of unease came creeping up my breastbone. My heart sounded abnormally loud in the stillness and I put a hand on my chest as though to quiet it. There was something terribly wrong in the house.

Quiet as a cat I crept from room to room on the balls of my feet. Someone was watching me and the air was heavy with anticipation. Cool sweat trickled down my sides but I was too scared to try and wipe it away. I couldn't even bring my arms up.

Coming down into the ugly kitchen nothing seemed wrong at first. The bright sunlight from the windows made me squint a bit. When my eyes had readjusted they fell on the still form of my mother crumpled up against the side of the cabinets. A scream caught in my throat and my entire body tensed up as tight as a metal spring. My hands twitched spasmodically against my sides and my lips began to tremble. I couldn't see if she was breathing or not but she was very still. I didn't want to get any closer in case she was…she couldn't be…she was just fine at breakfast this morning running her hands through Trowa's messy hair. Oh god. Trowa.

With leaden steps I turned away from the sight and walked out of the house, my steps growing faster with each one I took. Being back outside was a little better. It didn't seem so closed in as inside the house was.

"Dad?" I called out weakly. I called a little louder. No answer. On the third call and no answer I started running down the slope to the car. I stopped my headlong flight down the hill by bracing myself against the hood of the little sports car. Even from in front of the car I could see someone lying down behind it. I shuffled around the side, tears blinding my eyes, and looked down at my father. He was laying spread out on the ground. Sharp little rocks were digging into his face where it lay on the gravel driveway. His rented fishing gear was still clutched in his hand.

Backing away slowly I felt a numbness creep through my body. When I felt a large rock brushing up against my legs I left myself sit down. My legs felt like noodles and my eyes kept blurring. I thought that maybe it might be nice to let the numbness slide over my whole body. I would lie down next to my father and just…just what? Lay there and wait to die? Lay there while that spirit took my family took…Trowa.

In a flash I was up and running. My legs wobbled dangerously underneath me and I wasn't wearing the right type of shoes for running in the forest. Sharp stones and plants cut at my bare ankles and the bottom of my feet were being stabbed mercilessly by sharp rocks even through the soles of my shoes.

By the time I reached the meadow dusk had fallen steadily over the mountains. My arms were covered in goose bumps but my face was flushed from the run. And from anger. Mostly anger. How dare he. How dare he! HOW DARE HE!

My hair was stuck to my face with sweat and I swiped it away impatiently with the back of my hand. Nothing in the meadow moved, not even a blade of grass being pushed by the wind. Besides my harsh stuttery breathing not a sound reached my ears. The silence and stillness only served to enrage me further. The scream that had been trying to rip its way from my throat finally emerged. It wasn't a human sound. It was the sound of a cornered animal. As the scream tapered away into the eerie quiet it was as if the dam had been opened and the torrent of fear and grief spread out of my mouth in chocking sobs and from my eyes in rivulets of tears. I felt my knees buckle and hit the ground hard, one ankle twisting painfully beneath me.

I'm not sure how long I stayed crouched over, screaming and crying into the dusty weeds. It was some time later that a small noise to my side caused me to snap my head up. My eyes felt so wide open that I was sure the whites were showing all the way around. My lips peeled back in a snarl.

Standing not five feet away was Trowa. Holding his hand was the monster.

Trowa didn't look scared or nervous. He looked calm, complacent. There was a dull look about his eyes that immediately had me thinking of Quatre being led willingly to his own death.

Upon seeing that horrifying tableau all the energy and force went out of me in one fell swoop. I felt drained and the whole situation seemed so very far away from me. I was so tired. How long had it been since I had slept the whole night through with no nightmares. I couldn't remember. It seemed like too much work to even try and remember.

Something sharp pricked the back of my arm. My drowsiness abruptly fell away as my hand instinctively reached back to feel where my arm had been stung. My fingers brushed against nothing but bare skin but something flickered at the edge of my vision. I managed to turn my head a little in that direction, though it felt like my neck was made of unmovable steel. A little behind me and to my left stood a girl dressed in white. She had the largest doe-brown eyes I had ever seen. She stood only up to my shoulder but her curly brown tresses were at least a good foot longer than my bushy red hair. With her pale complexion and soft wispy hair she looked like an angel.

A harsh manic laugh made me turn back towards my brother and the man who held him. The man let out another string of barking laughter and then rattled something off in a gravely voice that I couldn't understand. He was staring at the girl behind me. I felt another prick, this time at the back of my neck. I couldn't force my head to turn around but I knew that if I did I'd see another little girl with some of the man's features stamped on her pale little face.

I'd just about had enough.

"Excuse me, but what the fuck do you think you're doing with my brother?" I growled out. The man seemed a bit taken aback at first but his gaze was reluctant to leave the sight of the two apparitions behind me.

"You don't need to worry about him anymore Cathy," he whispered as his eyes slowly locked with mine. "You don't need to worry about anything anymore."

"And just what is that supposed to mean! You killed my parents!" I screamed.

"I did what I had to. You'll see. Everything's fine Cathy."

"No it isn't! And stop saying my name you freak!" My mind was spitting words at me but my lips wouldn't form them. My tongue was stuck to my mouth. Another sharp pain on my back and another presence behind me. Quatre's father jerked with the new spirit's presence. His eyes darted quickly from mine to look behind me.

"Cathy come here." I thought I detected the slightest hint of uncertainty in his voice.

"Cathy come here, _now_."

"No." I tried to swallow around my too thick tongue. The action made my throat hurt.

"I said come here you little shit!" The man ground out. His eyes flickered unsteadily between me and the form at my back.

Another prickle. Sweat began sliding down Quatre's father's face and his eyes were bugging out of his head. It felt like we had been standing facing each other for hours. As I took a quick glance around me I realized that it _could _have been hours. Night had fallen though dusk had just begun to settle when I ran away from the shocking sights at the house. The sky was dark and only a thin sliver of light from the setting sun at my back was lighting the clearing. A gust of wind set a run of shivers up my spine.

"I don't have time for this!" The man hissed. He turned on his heel and walked away from me, dragging a stumbling and complacent Trowa along with him. My feet shuffled forward on their own accord and soon I was running to keep up with his longer stride. In the dim light I didn't see the dip in the ground ahead of me and suddenly felt the loss of ground beneath my feet. My stomach lurched and I fell heavily on the ankle I had twisted before. I bit back a cry and felt a warm rush of tears come into my eyes with the pain. As I sat there the world seemed to tilt and I desperately clutched at the thorny weeds around me trying to hold on.

When the world finally stopped spinning it was full dark and ahead of me was a blazing fire.

Pushing myself up roughly I sprinted for the fire. I could see the ghost of Quatre's father standing by a freshly dug crave, a knife glinting in the firelight. I charged forward and even surprised myself when I came upon the creature in a matter of seconds. He turned and saw me at the last instant. His large muscular arm came up and connected solidly with my head. I imagined I could here the crack of my upper back and head hitting the ground as I was knocked over. I was dazed for a full minute until I realized that the ghost was screaming in my face, his own face full of fury and body ridged with tension.

With my head whirling and throbbing I managed to use my elbows to help me sit up. He looked like he had been ranting for some time, pausing now and again to look around him wildly as if waiting for someone else to show up. Finally his focus snapped back to me and with terrifying strength latched his hand around the back of my neck and hauled me to my feet. I pushed back from him and glared up at him coldly.

He looked desperate and disheveled as he began raving again. "You just don't understand, do you! I wanted to protect them from the horrors of the world. I didn't want them to grow up knowing all the evil in the world. But here…if I tied them to this land…they could stay children forever. They loved it here. They would never have to grow old, never worry about the world. I did it to protect them! I knew what I was doing. I researched the place. The spiritual energy in this land is remarkable. I knew they would be safe here…but after…after. I couldn't live without them. I needed to be with them. I couldn't do it right. Not by myself. They're…so….so afraid of me…I don't know….and little Quatre….so lonely. That's why I need your brother. He cares for Quatre and Quatre cares for him. Now my little boy won't be lonely."

"You're crazy! You're…you're…" I couldn't even think of what he was except clearly out of whatever mind a ghost might possess.

"He'll be happy here. I know he will. I know you can be too. All the girls you could ever want to play with. Sisters for you. My daughters would love to keep you company. You'll never be lonely again Cathy."

A snarl began at the back of my throat and I growled at the man still holding my brother. His eyes widened perceptively and I saw a terrifying light dancing in their dark depths. It was then that I saw them. All his little girls forming a circle around us including the ones who had been standing behind me. And then there was Quatre, holding onto Trowa's other hand, tears streaming from his deep blue eyes.

Slowly the girls began to dance. Around and around they went. I could almost hear the drum keeping beat for them. The man looked around wildly, his eyes wide and panicked.

"I did it for you!" He screamed. "I loved you all so much!"

With those words the girls began screaming in rage and I saw my chance. I leapt forward. A splash of firelight glinting off the knife shone like hellfire in my eyes. A scream of my own tore through me. I closed in on the being. White shapes spun faster and faster around us. For less than a heartbeat Trowa's eyes cleared and locked with mine. His face was drawn with sorrow.

My headlong flight ended as abruptly as it started. In my ears the screaming of twenty nine little girls was as loud and shrill as a train whistle. Cutting through this as easily as a knife through flesh was the sound of two little boys weeping.

_tbc_

* * *


	6. Epilogue

Natdia Epilogue

By Nostalgie Malaak

Notes: Can't believe it's finally complete!

Disclaimer: don't own a thing

* * *

Up the steep slopes of the northernmost range of the Rocky Mountains is a meadow. From this meadow one can see the jagged lumps of the Grand Teton Mountains. The meadow is surrounded by sap-filled pine trees and shivery tall aspens. The air perpetually smells of snowfall, even in summer.

This is where you'll find twenty-nine little girls.

The ground is dusty and covered in weeds and wild flowers that smell more bitter than sweet. The silence is at times unbearable. This high up the only wildlife is the tiny chipmunks that live among the rocks. The only other sound is the wind in the trees. It saws in and out like breathing. The pine needles rub against each other like the sound of a dry whispery laugh.

This is where you'll find one small blue-eyed boy.

Not far from this meadow is a mansion rearing up from the side of the mountain. It has an old broken down porch. The weeds are pushing up through the cracks in the splintery wooden boards. The windows are shuttered and the door is locked.

This is where you'll find the remnants of a happy family.

The land on which the house and the meadow rest is filled with energy. It is filled with the love and hate of the living and of the dead. There is a patch of ground between the house and the meadow that is stained with the blood of a little boy who fell and scraped his knees. There is blood in the meadow which ties the spirits there for all time. Sometimes they move between the meadow and the house, just to remember that they can. There is a large rock in the meadow, difficult to climb, but perfect for surveying the land. The land moves and sighs and whispers its secrets through the trees.

This is where you'll find my brother.

High up in these mountains, far away from the verdant oak trees of my home, is a meadow filled with the ashes of an old bonfire. There are still charred logs to be found scattered here and there. The occasional rain has turned some of the ash to dark black soil. out of the ground rise many small dirt mounds. They could be the graves of children, they're so small.

Far away from the best friends I've ever had, who were more like sisters to me than friends, I have found a quiet place. There is a stillness here, unmarred by the angry shade who used to haunt these woods. There is joy and sadness in this place, but it is a distant thing, like a memory only half recalled.

There will be others who come to this place. I can feel it. There is always someone new. This land is powerful and it calls out for others. This land is soaked in blood and cries out to be seen, touched, smelled. This land resonates with the whirling energy of one final dance.

And this is where you'll find me, too.

_The End_


End file.
